


Interim: Piano Forte

by serafina20



Series: Corner of the World [57]
Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-08
Updated: 2011-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Dominic and Damien got together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interim: Piano Forte

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during part 20 of COTW.

"I think that's enough for this evening," Damien said, breaking the silence of the room.

Head aching from staring at numbers, computer screens, and tiny-printed words for the past few days, Dominic looked up. Damien was leaning casually against the door-jab, which was jarring; Damien was anything but casual. Dominic had never even seen him with mussed hair before he'd come to work out the matter of Clark's adoption papers.

He found it quite attractive, actually. Damien quite attractive. Terrifying, yes, but there was simply something about the man. Perhaps it was the danger, the strength hidden underneath the perfectly pressed clothing. The overwhelming competence and confidence that Damien had. He was... perfect in so many ways, everything that Dominic would never be and everything he'd always wanted in another person.

And now he was leaning against the door in Dominic's office, hair slightly rumpled, tie gone, shirtsleeves rolled up and collar unbuttoned, exposing beautifully tanned skin.

Dominic swallowed. "I still have some work to do."

"Leave it. It can wait until tomorrow."

"But I..."

"Leave it," Damien said again, tone brooking no argument. "It's not something that needs to get done at this moment, and we both deserve a break. Come." He turned and left the room.

Dominic rubbed his eyes and shut off his computer. Damien was right; he needed a break. Even his dreams had been filled with his new role as double agent. Of course, his role mostly involved sorting through Clark Kent's tangled past, reading and memorizing Lionel's books, and keeping track of any business dealings that Lex would be interested in. Which, of course, was everything.

Ever since he'd made the offer to Lex, Dominic's waking and sleeping hours had been filled with anxiety and trouble. Lionel was the most observant and dangerous person he knew. Dominic was certain that any day he'd realized that Dominic was spying on him... if he hadn't already. And when he did discover what Dominic was doing, Dom knew that the retribution would be swift and painful.

But that's what Dominic had agreed to. Lionel's glory was fading, that was more than apparent to Dominic, even if the rest of the world--and Lionel himself--remained oblivious. Five, six years from now, nothing would be left of the once powerful company unless someone young and brilliant--Lex--took the reigns in hand. And while Lex may respect Dominic even less than Lionel did, it was for a different reason. Lionel owned Dominic and had for years; now, Dominic was willingly selling not himself or his relationship with Harry Hardwick, but his abilities to Lex. Those could be respected, and Lex would allow him to reach a fuller potential than Lionel ever would.

Damien was studying a painting on Dominic's wall, sipping a glass of red wine. The open bottle was on the table; next to it was another glass, clearly intended for Dominic.

"Matisse, right?" Damien asked.

Dominic nodded. "My sister got that for me. It's one of my favorites." He smiled. "She's never enjoyed the piano, and hated suffering through piano lessons. I, however, enjoyed them, so she bought me the painting."

"I wouldn't have thought Victoria so thoughtful."

"She has her moments." He took another sip. "She's really not so bad, you know. Victoria. True, she can be a bit much to handle and everything, but no more so than Lex, really."

Damien turned and leveled a look at Dominic.

"I didn't mean that as an insult."

"Still, comparing Victoria to Lex is rather like comparing feces a monkey happens to throw on a canvas to this painting."

"Don't you think that's a bit much? She is my sister."

"Indeed." He turned away from Dominic again, walking across the room to refill his wineglass.

Dominic sighed softly and drained his glass as well. It obviously didn't do to argue the merits of his sister with this man; his mind was made up. Plus, he clearly worshiped the ground Lex walked on, and while Dominic didn't exactly disagree with that sentiment, he didn't see that Victoria was so unworthy either.

"Here." Damien was at his side, pouring more wine. "Do you play?" He nodded at the piano in the corner of the room.

"I do, yes. Not as much as I'd like." As usual, whenever the piano was brought to his attention, Dominic was drawn to it magnetically. The piano was his prized possession, old and scarred through it was. It'd belonged to his mother; he remembered it from when he was very young, before she'd married Harry. He would sit in her lap as she played, her perfume wafting over them as music danced in the air. Music had been the first language he read, the first mathematical formulas he'd worked out. When his mother was out, he'd sit before the white keys, small fingers pushing out simple tunes, discovering chords, weaving dreams.

"Why not?"

"Hmm?" He lifted the cover and stroked the keys gently, lost in his thoughts.

"Why don't you play as much as you'd like?" Damien was leaning against the piano now, looking at him again.

It was unsettling to be trapped under those dark, penetrating eyes. Like he was being studied or catalogued.

Or seduced.

"Work keeps me from it." He set his wineglass down and sat on the bench. "Often when I come home, I work some more. Do you do the same?"

"Lex is a full time job. But I do find time for myself." He drained his glass. "In fact, I was thinking of going off tonight, but I know if I did, you'd just start working again. And, apparently, if I'm not making sure that Lex isn't working himself to death, I must do the same for someone else."

Dominic smiled. Softly, he began to play a lyrical Celtic tune. "I don't mean to keep you from any pressing engagements."

"No pressing engagements. Just a bit of entertainment."

"Ah, I see." He picked up his glass and took a drink. With the music and the wine, he was beginning to feel mellow and much more confident. "From what I understand, our idea of entertainment differs vastly. Otherwise I'd offer to go with you. Just to... ease your mind." He smiled crookedly and began to play again.

"Have you ever been to an S and M club before?"

"No. Dear God, no." He felt his cheeks warm at the idea. "I'm not much for pain. Either causing or receiving."

Damien snorted.

"What?"

"I can't imagine and situation in which you'd be on the giving end. No top would give up the right if you were his bottom." And then Damien reached out and touched his cheek with the back of his hand.

Dear Lord, Dominic thought, stomach tightening. Damien was *flirting* with him.

"Is that so?" His fingers played lightly over the keys, wondering exactly where this was going to go. And, more important, where he wanted it to go. It wasn't as if he'd never thought of sleeping with Damien; the man was drop dead gorgeous, after all. But he'd never thought he'd be in a position where it might actually happen.

"You've a very expressive face. Who wouldn't love to see it twisted in agony?"

He laughed softly. "Is that your idea of a compliment?"

Damien just smiled and finished his wine. Pouring himself some more, he listened as Dominic continued to play, louder now, in the absence of conversation. When he reached the end of the song, he continued on with only a moment's pause.

"Do you memorize all your music?"

"I do. I only need to hear a song once anyway, so I rarely buy music."

"I don't recognize this."

"No," Dominic agreed distractedly. "It's an original."

"You compose?" He sounded intrigued.

Dominic looked up, meeting Damien's eyes. "I wanted to be a composer. I've written over two hundred in my life, and have notes on a symphony I'd like to write. I've started it several times, but have never really had the time to really devote myself to it."

He frowned. "That's really something you should make a priority. You've very good. I don't have much of an ear, but I can tell good from bad."

"You're a little intoxicated."

Damien smirked, shook his head, and finished his wine. "Don't do that, Dominic. You have talent, and you know you do. It's no shame to cop up to it." He sat on the bench next to Dominic. "Why have you never given up the business world to devote yourself to this?"

He sighed and switched to a song he'd written not long after he'd broken up with Lex. It was a very uncomfortable song, in some ways, as during those months, he'd been dating a woman, a doctor, something he'd never done. Date a woman, that was. Or a doctor, but the fact Helen had been a woman had been much more nerve-wracking. He'd just wanted to feel ... normal, for once, and if Lex could leave him for a woman--which, technically, he didn't; Dominic had left him because of the drugs--but if Lex could sleep with both men and women, then perhaps Dominic could, too.

"Fear," he finally replied. "I was simply too afraid to do anything more. Harry hated my music; no matter what I played or listened to, it was noise. But I could do magic with numbers, and when he discovered that, he exploited it to the fullest. And then, it was the only thing I could offer Lionel, the only way I knew I wouldn't be... starving in the streets, powerless."

"I'm sure that wouldn't have happened."

"I had no formal training. You need that to get into music, and I simply have... raw talent. It wouldn't have worked." He leaned into the keys, shifting the volume from piano to forte.

Damien set his wineglass down. "It's a shame how others who have no business can dictate the direction of our lives."

He shook his head disbelievingly. Damien was comforting him? The wine was obviously having an affect. "I can't imagine that you've ever experienced something similar."

"Not as such, no, although there was the marriage I was talked out of."

"You? Married?" He stopped playing, but Damien frowned when he did and nodded at the piano.

"Yes, although, in retrospect, it was best I didn't marry her. When I was at Oxford, I met a young woman who was in pre-law as well. She was brilliant, and very beautiful, but my aunt strongly suggested I not see it through. So, I broke off the engagement. For a long time, I wasn't happy with the decision, but it was best in the end. For both of us. And for Lex, of course."

Taking a deep breath, Dominic worked up the nerve to ask the question he'd wanted to ask for years. "Are you in love with Lex?"

Damien laughed gently, shaking his head. "No, I am not, although I'm sure I give off that impression." He picked up his glass again and gazed at it contemplatively. "The boy has so much potential. He gives off an aura of greatness that is lacking from anyone else I've ever met in my life. If he can only break away from Lionel and *focus*, he'll achieve great things. And I'll be there to help him."

"And what then? What will he do for you after?"

The dark eyes locked onto his with sharp, focused intensity that made his skin burn.

"I'm a king maker, Dominic. I'll remain with Lex as long as he needs me, but being his assistant is all I ask."

"You don't want to be vice president of his company?"

"I don't want to be vice president if he should become president. My place at his side holds more power than any subordinate company position ever could."

Dominic sighed and shook his head. "I wish I felt the same way. But I'm so dissatisfied with my position in life. I want more, only every time I get more, it's not enough."

"I think," Damien said, tracing one finger down the back of Dominic's hand, "that it may be because you're in the wrong line of work."

It was said with compassion, not pity. Understanding, not disdain. Listening to that chocolate rich voice say something that wasn't a carefully worded insult, that was, in fact, empathetic, and to have been working side by side with him for three days, never once feeling as if he needed to debase himself to please anyone, was too much.

Without really thinking of the implications of his actions, or how it might be interpreted, Dominic leaned into Damien and kissed him.

To his surprise, Damien didn't push him away or even gently disengage himself. Instead, one hand gripped Dominic's upper arm tightly, the other curved behind his neck, holding him in place. When Dominic's mouth opened, Damien slid inside, his tongue massaged against Dominic's, licking along his lower lip in between the gentle nips of sharp teeth.

Dominic moaned as heat washed over his body. Obviously, they'd drunk too much. They should have gone out. It'd probably been a long time for Damien. Either that, he had guess how Dominic spent his evenings wanking off at the memory of Damien walking through his flat wearing his robe and decided to exploit that.

He wondered if he should protest and call a halt to this. After all, it wasn't sensible. It wasn't...

Then Damien licked down Dominic's throat, teeth scraping over his Adam's apple, sending shivers down his spine.

Fuck it. He wanted this.

"Damien," he gasped, threading his fingers through Damien's hair.

"Don't," Damien whispered, returning to Dominic's mouth. "Turn around."

"What?"

Damien climbed off the bench and turned Dominic around to face him. Slowly, he unbuttoned Dominic's shirt, baring skin. His fingers brushed against Dominic's exposed chest, sending sparks skittering over his flesh. "Don't speak."

He wanted to ask why, but that would be speaking. Heart pounding, he swallowed back his question and allowed Damien to slide the shirt off his shoulders, dropping it onto the floor.

Eyes devouring the flesh he'd just laid bare, Damien slowly unbuttoned his own shirt and tossed it at the couch. Then, moving slowly, he straddled Dominic and lowered himself gently onto Dominic's lap. He moved with the grace of a stripper, his soft hands siding over Dominic's naked shoulders, down his arms, then over his chest.

Dominic shivered, goose bumps breaking over his skin. He tried to bite back a moan when Damien mouthed down his neck, the flat of his tongue brushing over the skin as lips worked determinedly, raising the blood to the surface. When Damien's long fingers twisted his nipples--just enough to send a jolt through Dominic, but not enough to cause pain--Dominic arched, crying out as a flood of heat spilled down his chest, pooling in his groin. His cock hardened, pressing against Damien's bottom. Without thinking, he pressed up, moaning softly at the sensations that spread from the contact.

"Not yet," Damien murmured against his skin. He nipped the skin just above Dominic's collarbone and pressed his body back. "Just wait."

"What?" he asked as his back made contact with the keys; they jarred out discordantly.

Damien moved his body further up Dominic's until he was no longer positioned over his lap. The movement forced Dominic to arch his back, smacking his head against the top of the piano painfully.

"Bloody hell," he groaned, stars swimming behind his closed eyelids. Then Damien sat on his cock and twisted his hips over it, grinding. The pain disappeared in an explosion of pleasure, and he groaned again. Blindly, he ran his hands up Damien's back, pressing his palms into the warm skin, feeling the sweat breaking out across the surface. When his fingers threaded through the thick brown hair, he tugged Damien's head to his.

After a moment of resistance, Damien followed Dominic's insistent tugging to return to his mouth. Their lips met messily, Damien's mouth not quite covering Dominic's completely. His teeth closed over Dominic's bottom lip, breaking the skin.

"You've a very talented mouth." Damien was breathing heavily as he kissed over Dominic's chin. One finger slipped inside Dominic's mouth and rubbed over the cut. "I wouldn't have thought it'd be so.... addicting."

Dominic twirled his tongue around Damien's finger. "You've thought about my mouth?"

"You chew on your lips." Damien licked his bottom lip. "And on suck pens." A nip. "And I saw eating some kind of phallically shaped food this morning, so, yes, I've thought about your mouth." He kissed Dominic again, long and probing.

When the broke apart, Dominic breathed across Damien's ear, "I can do more with my mouth than simply kiss."

Damien's eyebrow raised. "Oh?"

He returned the smile and sat up, forcing Damien off his lap. His hands wandered down the planes of Damien's muscular chest--and when *did* he find the time to keep himself in such top condition while taking care of Lex--to the waistband of his slacks. Sinking to his knees, he unbuckled Damien's belt and undid the fly.

Damien's cock pressed against his briefs, creating a large bulge. Inhaling deeply, he leaned forward and licked along the bulge, wetting the fabric.

Damien made a muffled sound deep in his throat, fingers scraping along Dominic's head. "Dom," he said roughly. "If you want to move..."

"No. I'm fine." He pulled Damien's slacks and briefs completely down and took the head into his mouth between his lips.

The truth was, he loved being on his knees, servicing another man. As much as he struggled for power in his daily life, as horrible as his upbringing had been, as much as he longed to be viewed as an equal or better to those around him, during sex, all he really desired was to be subordinate. To be on his knees or pressed into the mattress. To be told what to do and to have his control and power taken completely away from him.

Of course, being on his knees wasn't a completely powerless position. He knew, of course, how to use his mouth to bring a man to the very brink, then ease off, making them beg. There was a power in that, one he enjoyed.

"Dom."

He pulled back on his heels and lifted his eyes to Damien. The other man was holding out a condom; Dominic had no idea where he'd gotten it from, but his request was clear. And probably very wise. Even if Dominic didn't have as much sex as he may have liked, Damien did, and better safe than not.

He took the condom and quickly unwrapped it. He set it on the tip of Damien's cock carefully, then, feeling a bit as if he needed to impress the gorgeous man who's cock he was being allowed to suck, he rolled the condom on with his mouth, softening his throat so he was able to take the entire thing in, gagging only a little. When he pulled off, the condom was in place and shiny with saliva.

"Very nice trick," Damien said in a gravelly tone. His eyes were on fire as they looked down on Dominic, scorching him.

"Well," Dominic replied. He licked over the head, applying a light pressure. "Since I am turning one, I might as well give you your money's worth."

Damien's lips curved and his fingers dug into the sides of Dominic's head. Forcefully, he guided Dominic's head back to his cock.

Dominic allowed himself to be guided, opening his mouth to take the latex covered sheath inside. His eyes slid shut because, even if the taste was awful, there was nothing like having something hard and sensitive in his mouth. He sucked, cheeks hollowed. His hands curved around Damien's taut buttocks, pulling him further inside until the head hit his soft palate.

There was a strangled groan above him, and Damien's hips bucked, thrusting brutally into Dominic's mouth. He gagged. His throat closed convulsively around Damien. Most men would have stopped, would have apologized, but Damien simply did it again, faster this time. Harder, not caring about Dominic's discomfort.

Dominic's own cock swelled within his slacks at the punishing abuse. He could hardly draw breath in. His head spun, but God, it was so good.

Damien took control of everything. He'd been in control since he'd arrived and now... now he controlled Dominic. Held his head in a tight grip. Fucked his mouth. Used him like he wanted, and yet... and yet... It wasn't impersonal. There was no disconnect. Dominic had never felt as connected to another person in his life.

The hands tightened and hips stilled. Dominic looked up.

Sweat gleamed on Damien's forehead. His eyes were squeezed shut and Dominic had never noticed what long lashes he had before. Or how perfect his skin was. The way the passion turned his cheeks a dusky rose.

He was perfect.

Damien exhaled hard. He pulled his cock out of Dominic's mouth, hands changing from controlling to soothing. "Can you breathe?"

"Yes." Breathing heavily. Vision swimming. But breathing.

"Up."

He stood.

Damien kissed him. Hard. Messy. "Bedroom."

"Yes." His hands clenched in Damien's shirt.

They moved together, Dominic stumbling in haste, Damien gliding easily backwards. Their mouths never pulled apart, their kisses growing more passionate, more hungry as they moved through the apartment.

Dominic's shirt disappeared before they crossed the threshold to his room. Damien's soon followed. Shoes were kicked off, belts undone. All much faster than Dominic had thought when he'd pictured this. He'd always assumed Damien would move slowly, deliberately, seductively. But there was no time for that. Not with the urgency building.

Damien stopped moving backwards quiet suddenly. Never graceful, Dominic stumbled into him. "Sorry," he said into Damien's neck. He inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of sweat and cologne and skin.

"Don't apologize." He was further reprimanded with a sharp bite on his earlobe. Then Damien turned him around and lowered him to the bed. "Lubricant?"

"Bathroom."

He counted the time Damien was gone in thundering heartbeats. His eyes were squeezed shut. Fists clenched in coverlet. He didn't dare move, lest he wake or ruin the mood. Lest Damien return and realize this was not what he wanted.

And then he was back. Hands on Dominic's body, turning him over. Easing him onto his hands and knees.

"Are you all right?" Damien asked when Dominic's breath hitched.

"Y-yes." Not convincing at all.

A finger teased around his opening, not quite penetrating, but with enough pressure to make Dominic's stomach clench. "So, when you say you're not much for pain, is that at all?"

He swallowed hard. "W-what do you want to do?"

The finger was removed. Replaced with something larger. Blunter. Harder.

"Oh."

"I'll make it worth it. It won't be intolerable. Simply uncomfortable for a few moments."

"If I say no?"

The cock was removed. Replaced with a finger.

His heart squeezed in fear. "Okay. All right. Do it your way."

"Do you have a usual safe word?" Damien asked as he positioned his cock at Dominic's entrance again.

"No."

He tisked. "You should always have a safe word. I don't care how vanilla your sex is. How about... apple?"

"Apple?"

"I can't imagine any possible scenario in which we might ever use that word while having sex. Can you remember it?"

"Yes."

"Good." And then he pushed in.

Dominic inhaled sharply. His fingers dug into comforter as his body was split in two. Slowly. Carefully. But relentlessly.

"Oh God," he groaned. Sweat dropped from his forehead. A few tears slid from his eyes. "Oh *fuck*."

"I won't stop unless you say the safe word." Damien, inexorable force that he was, continued to work his way into Dominic's to-tight passage.

He shook his head. "No. No, it's... all right." His chest felt too tight. His skin felt as if it were on fire. But the pain was... not less, but more tolerable.

And then, his body gave. Damien slipped all the way in, hips coming flush against Dominic's arse.

Damien groaned. Stayed where he was. Hands flexed on Dominic's hips. "I love how tight your are," he said, voice gruff.

No answer to that. He simply rested his forehead on the bed, exhaustion licking at his senses.

"Does it still hurt?"

He was stretched around a large, hard cock. Liberally coated with lubricate, yes, but bigger than his passage had been, nonetheless. "Yes."

"Good." He pulled back and thrust back in.

There was just enough friction for the burn to spread over his spine, down his arms. But... but it felt good. Full.

He did it again, building a rhythm. Dominic was groaning constantly, half in pain, half pleasure. Fingers tearing at the bed sheets. Sweat pouring off him.

And Damien was so silent. Nothing put harsh panting and the occasional hitch of his breath. No soothing words as the burn began to fade and be replaced by a hot glow of ecstasy.

And then Dominic was making enough noise for the both of them.

He couldn't tell how long they moved together. Only that he gave out a lot sooner. His pleasure peaked, head spun. He came hard enough for his vision to grey. His arms gave up strength. His legs trembled.

Damien continued to work into him. To slid in and out, pushing into prostate, hips slapping, flesh connected. Sweat dropping from his face, his body, onto Dominic. Hands sliding everywhere: his stomach, thighs, neck, hair, spent cock. Working him over until, even in his exhaustion, he grew hard again. Pushed back. Moved in tandem, although his legs felt as substantial and pudding.

When Damien came, he did it silently. Hands tightened. Bruising force pushing Dominic over the edge again. Stood behind Dominic until he stopped shaking. Then pulled out and discarded the condom before falling on the bed.

Awkwardness set in now. Dominic sat up and glanced at Damien.

The other man was making himself quite comfortable in Dominic's bed. His head was on a pillow, eyes closed, chest rising and falling as he regained his breath.

This was the part he'd always been bad at. Even with Helen, Dominic had never known what to do in the aftermath.

He got out of bed and went to the bathroom. His reflection showed a man flushed, sweaty, and well sated. He rather liked feeling this way.

After cleaning himself off, he returned to the bedroom. Found his shorts and put them on. Then sat on the edge of the bed.

He was just about to offer to sleep in Damien's room that night, when the dark eyes opened. "Are you not tired? Do I need to work you over again?"

He blushed. "Not at all. I just..."

Damien sat up and pulled the comforter off, then turned down the sheets. "Come to bed, Dominic."

He hesitated a moment longer, then did as Damien ordered.


End file.
